I am not crazy.

Yes, my brain is wired a little differently and yes, I struggle with getting a grip on my mental health at times but in no way am I to be considered crazy. I find that the term crazy is used by people who have nothing creatively to offer and no witty comeback. Its the easiest word tot throw out during a fight to make someone stop. They're a scared animal backed into a corner so lashing out with a term they think will hurt me is what they use. 

Don't wield crazy as a weapon, you cannot damage me with it.

Over the years as I have come to terms with my depression I have called myself every name in the book. I have gone from failure to crazy to batshit and yet I still rise every morning hoping the new day will be better than the previous. I worry about the men and women around me who internalize every time someone refers to them as crazy - someone who carries that weight and shame instead of shaking it all off. 

We as people don't realize how strong our words are. Every word out of our mouth, every insult hurled at someone different, every time we call someone crazy to hurt them can impact them for the rest of their life. I may have grown a thicker skin over the years but I can still hear the taunts of assholes calling me crazy or the people telling me that I looked too happy to be depressed or that my struggle was for attention. 

I don't want the C word to label me for the rest of my life. 

I am Compassionate, Charismatic, Confident. 

I am NOT crazy. 

There are dreams inside of me and those are mine and my guess is that they’re there for a reason. But for all the days like now where the dreams are asked to be only dreams, I’m gonna keep getting out of bed. I’m gonna keep living my story. I’m gonna believe that there is reason and purpose, and power in my life. I’m gonna believe that I’m alive inside a story bigger than my pain, bigger than everything missing.
— Jamie Tworkowski